On the “Dis” of Disability
May 1, 2007 by Kristina Chew, PhD
Filed under Health
This post is written in honor of this year’s Blogging Against Disablism Day, the purpose of which is “to write about disability and rail against the discrimination that disabled people continue to face.”
I believe very much that how we talk about our children greatly, if unconsciously, influences how we think about them. If we emphasize deficits, impairments, “can’t do that,” “will never do that,” these negatives become the sum of what our child is. In the course of my life with my son Charlie, my language has evolved to speak of his skills and abilities and to note that, while these might be “few” in some areas or “developing” or “not yet,” these are skills and abilities that he will acquire someday. Thus, in writing about disability here—and specifically about autism—I tend to focus on the “ability” part of the word disability, especially when I am talking about my son Charlie. Most recently, I have written about Charlie packing his own lunch, Charlie attending a reading with me and Mothers Vox in Brooklyn (yes, the podcast is coming soon), Charlie’s excitement about his first-ever playdate, Charlie dealing with a moment of complete and unexpected disappointment (he and I went to his favorite restaurant and the door was locked tight).
Charlie has plenty of ability and of abilities; Charlie is disabled. What is it that he is seen as “not” being able to do?
For Blogging Against Disablism Day, I thought I would reflect on the other part of the word “disability,” the dis- prefix; the negative, “can’t do it” part of the word “disability.” One online dictionary notes this about the prefix dis-:
A prefix from the Latin, whence F. d['e]s, or sometimes
d['e]-, dis-. The Latin dis-appears as di- before b, d,
g, l, m, n, r, v, becomes dif- before f, and either dis- or
di- before j. It is from the same root as bis twice, and
duo, E. two. ………….. Dis-
denotes separation, a parting from, as in distribute,
disconnect; hence it often has the force of a privative
and negative, as in disarm, disoblige, disagree. Also
intensive, as in dissever.
[1913 Webster]
Separation and parting—being “disconnected”—depriving (hence dis- having a “privative” force”) and negating: These are the basic meanings of dis- as a prefix. To be disabled, then, would be to be separate and apart—distanced—from ability, and even deprived of some ability (say a child, being non-verbal, is “deprived of speech”) and “not able” to do certain things.
Dis has a few other meanings which, while not as directly related to the meaning of the dis of “disability,” may ring in the ears of a listener. “Dis” can also mean “to show disrespect to, often by insult or criticism” according to the Free Dictionary, as in a person being “dissed” or put down for making odd noises (hums, chirps) in a public place. The act of putting down a person making such bird-like sounds would be “dissing”; “DIS” is a term that means, according to this glossary of things ornithological, “dead in shell” and refers to “when an egg embryo dies before it hatches.” In classical mythology, Dis is one of the names of the God of Underworld, also known as Pluto, also known as Hades.
Distressing? Disconcerting? No wonder today is Blogging Against Disablism Day.
But consider this meaning of dis: It is the dif- in “different” and the di- in “diversity” (by way of divers). The Latin root word of “diversity” is the verb divertere, which means to “turn in different directions.” The Latin root word of “different” is differre, which means to “bring in various or different” directions.” While Charlie’s disability means that there are some, perhaps many, things that are difficult for him to do—talking, learning academic skills like reading, sitting still—the fact that Charlie is disabled also means that he is “differently abled” and that he has in the words of Tim Shriver, CEO of the Special Olympics) “diffability,” which refers to how Special Olympians are differently abled in athletic competition rather than unable to compete.
And this notion of the difference that disability makes—of the difference that Charlie, my son who has autism, has made on my life and on the lives of those who know him—is good enough to dissuade me about what might be thought depriving and negative about disability. Life with Charlie is different from what I thought life raising a child might be; life is not easy; life raising a disabled son is distinctly, distinguishedly, good.
And those are words that I believe in.
“Differently abled” is indeed a more positive way of looking at things, but it’s often awkward to use. I hope that in the not-so-distant future, different abilities and the accommodations that go with them will be seen as just part of everyday life; when our society no longer feels a need to sort people into separate groups of “normal” and “disabled,” the language will no longer be a problem.
I love the deconstruction of the language!
Just as negatives can hide in positives, so can positives lurk behind negatives…
I believe in looking at a complete picture good and bad, positive and negative.
Some autistic persons do suffer from some very serious DISabilities and they need assistance. Those who would deny them such assistance often rely on rose colored views of these realities to justify their denial of services.
And the tints of dark and of light and something inbetween, make for something very fine indeeds—perhaps like a mosaic, a broken wholeness.
Leave it to you, Kristina, to pick apart the language, LOL…..
I like to think of the DIS in Disabilities as the people who have stood in Bug’s way. The DISAblers. School administrators, incompetent teachers and physicians, etc. You know, those who don’t believe. And those people, *I* Dis. Neener, neener. ;D
I don’t focus on my children’s disabilities, I focus on their ABILITIES! Beautiful post! So true and accurate!!
What a unique way of talking about disability… thanks for breaking it down for us. Your post was so, so true.
I think if we as parents focus more on what our children CAN do, we’ll help them achieve their full potential. And more.
In my life I’ve seen a lot of disabled people do amazing things; things that I, with no physical or mental impairments, would not dream of doing. It’s exactly because they work so hard to do things that non-”disabled” people take for granted, that they many times develop the strength, the fearlessness and the discipline that is necessary to thrive on difficult tasks.
This is for Harold – I don’t know who you’re ranting against, since Kristina constantly talks about her efforts to provide Charlie with the best education, and is advocating for better assistance to autistic youngsters and adults; Charlie does ABA and even takes piano lessons!
If she wants to look at her life with rose-colored glasses, even though she admits all the difficulties and struggles, GOOD FOR HER, you go girl! I envy people who can say “I’m happy” no matter what.
I’d rather come here and read the experiences of a mother who is happy and embraces her life with an autistic son, then go somewhere else where parents only talk in doom-and-gloom terms about their own children. This blog is not preventing anyone from getting better services, quite the contrary. This blog is creating autism awareness and discussing all relevant topics to help inform the public about autism and give parents a forum to come to terms with their children’s diagnosis.
This is a thought-provoking post.
When most people talk about people with disabilities, as opposed to just talking about them as people, they’re talking about them in the context of their disability and the different access, mobility or communication requirements it creates. Outside of that discussion, I’d like to think that people can see the whole person and not just see them characterised by their disability.
At my university in the 90s, the student’s guild passed a ruling that all publications had to spell disability as ‘dysability’ because they said ‘dys’ as a prefix meant different, as opposed to ‘dis’ meaning ‘not’. Most people who saw it in print in the students’ newspaper thought it was a typo or looney political correctness though. That didn’t really achieve the intended goal of changing people’s perceptions. The rule was soon ignored. It probably technically applies today.
[golf clap for Leila]
Good one, Leila.
I wonder if Harold thinks we should be spending all our time looking for a cure instead of giving our children “assistance” via education? Either that, or he doesn’t read this blog, or he doesn’t understand what she writes….or…or…
… or…. “one day we’ll all be disabled.” I first heard this said at a conference a few years ago and it as stayed with me. There are six people in our household and three out of the six (my in-laws, Charlie) are disabled. Even though there are a lot of things that Charlie does and perhaps cannot do, he is a very able member of this household. Helping around the house (being a bigger boy means he can carry a lot—groceries, loads of laundry up the stairs, taking out the garbage, picking up around the house: He is very able-bodied and, I have to say, does not complain.
The whole of Charlie makes our household most complete.
What a fabulous post to read first thing in the morning!
Thanks so much for writing it!